Before coming to the Blackbox house in the Dominican Republic, one of our boys lived in a government-run home. But “foster care” there isn’t the home-like setting it is in the states, and he felt isolated. Months later, when he arrived at Blackbox, the social worker warned the teacher, “You’ll have a hard time getting him to talk in class. He doesn’t ever talk in school.”

Not long after, that same social worker returned for a visit. She observed a few minutes, and then remarked in surprise, “I thought you didn’t speak in class!”

The boy’s response silenced the room: “There, I felt like I was in prison. Here, I don’t. I get to go to school. I get to go out and do things. I talk now, because I’m not a prisoner anymore.”

And that’s why we do what we do. That’s why we spread the word and donate and pray. So that boys silenced by injustice can find their voice. Boys trapped in fear can rest in security. Boys held in bondage can run in freedom and say with joy, “I’m not a prisoner anymore.”